<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Incentives by branwyn</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22687108">Incentives</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/branwyn/pseuds/branwyn'>branwyn</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Person of Interest stories by branwyn [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Person of Interest (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abduction, John Reese: professor of moral philosophy, John's in the trunk, Kissing, M/M, mild head trauma, post-episode 1x07 Witness, trying to figure out what makes Lionel tick</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 09:47:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,602</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22687108</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/branwyn/pseuds/branwyn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Lionel's the opposite of John.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lionel Fusco/John Reese</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Person of Interest stories by branwyn [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1641835</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Chocolate Box - Round 5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Incentives</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/livenudebigfoot/gifts">livenudebigfoot</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>John’s been in the trunk of a moving car for a few hours now. This kind of thing happens to him a lot, so he stays calm and just keeps working on the zip tie holding his wrists behind his back.</p><p>He thinks he remembers getting knocked on the head. He doesn’t think the injury is serious, except in the sense that now he’s in this trunk, where he’ll be a lot easier to kill. </p><p>If anyone were to ask, John would have to admit that he’d been looking for trouble tonight. So, in a way, he’s exactly where he wants to be. </p><p>Admittedly, the zip tie is a complication.</p><p>Also, Lionel is driving the car. That’s an even bigger one.</p><p>*</p><p>Taking out his earpiece had been a stupid move. John’s aware. He just didn’t want to find himself saying things to Finch that he’d have to apologize for later. It’s not Finch’s fault that they got manipulated by Elias. John was just getting used to being—not the good guy, he’s not deluded, but the guy who saves people. Today, instead of doing that, he set a master criminal loose on the city.</p><p>It’s almost like he can’t touch something as good as this job without contaminating it. </p><p>He was planning to get back in touch with Harold once he was in the mood to aim for kneecaps again. Working a number right now would be a bad idea; he’d scare all the wrong people.</p><p>Tonight, the agenda was to shake down every petty street criminal he could get his fists on for whatever information about Elias he could find. What John quickly learned was that everyone was afraid of Elias, but along with the fear there was a surprising amount of true loyalty.</p><p>John is breathing in car exhaust and greasy upholstery right now because he wasn’t expecting three teenagers who used to deal for the Russians to sneak up behind him with a crowbar. </p><p>He wonders if any of them ever took a history class with a Mr. Burton. </p><p>By the time John woke up, he’d been dumped in the back of somebody’s aunt’s twenty-five year old Chrysler and handed over to new people, a little higher up in Elias’s network. He could tell that a hand-off took place, because nobody was smoking weed in the back seat anymore. They’d driven him around the city for a little over an hour, giving John time to enjoy his contact buzz, before pulling in somewhere quiet. </p><p>They’re in a parking structure now, maybe. </p><p>The doors open, but the trunk doesn’t. John hears voices.</p><p>“—curious about this guy’s relationship with somebody in HR.” The voice is familiar, but John can’t place it. “So we turn him over to the detective and see what he does with him.”</p><p>"So, if this detective doesn't want to do his own dirty work, we finish him off?" The second speaker is younger. Not quite as young as the kids who jumped him, but maybe close.</p><p>“Nah. Boss said the guy in the trunk did him a favor. I guess rolling the dice for him is his way of repaying it.”</p><p>Shuffling footsteps. “Remind me to be careful what kind of favors I do for the boss.”</p><p><em>Yeah, whatever you do, don't save his life,</em> John thinks, annoyed.</p><p>About ten minutes later—John’s not looking at his watch, but the younger guy leaning against the trunk smokes two cigarettes in a row—he hears a voice he knows. </p><p>“I hope you stole that thing,” says Lionel. “Or I’m embarrassed for your taste in vehicles, friend.”</p><p>“Don’t knock it, Detective. It’s a gift.”</p><p>“Is that right? Well I’m touched, but I got a car.”</p><p>“It’s what’s inside that counts.” Two loud knocks on the lid of the trunk; John’s head throbs in time with them. “See, Elias heard through the grapevine that a certain wanted criminal was giving you grief. He came into our possession this afternoon, and Elias wanted to make a gesture. He’s hoping to reach an understanding with HR in the near future.”</p><p>“Wanted criminal giving me grief, huh? That don’t exactly narrow it down all that much.”</p><p>A few seconds later, the trunk opens, and bright yellow light sears John’s eyes. Squinting against the glare, he can just make out the dark outline of Lionel leaning over him.</p><p>There’s a few seconds of silence, then Lionel says, “Yeah, that guy’s given me a world of grief all right.”</p><p>*</p><p>The thing about Lionel is that he’s got certain leverage points that make him easy to manipulate. A kid, an ex-wife he doesn’t hate. Not a lot of friends he sees anymore, but the old ones still have a claim on his loyalty. </p><p>Most of his old friends are still in HR.</p><p>If John weren’t on his case all the time, it would be pretty easy for Lionel to go back to his old life. The work he does for John hasn’t put him past the point of no return yet. Make one or two adjustments—like removing John from the equation, say—and the transition could be pretty seamless.</p><p>People would answer the phone if Lionel called. Take him out for drinks, pat him on the back. Lionel lives for that kind of thing. Even his indigestion would clear up probably, because Lionel’s not made to serve two masters. It doesn’t matter so much whether he’s dirty or clean. He just wants to be whatever he is with all his heart.</p><p>John’s always liked that about him. Maybe he should pat Lionel on the back more often.</p><p>“So what, you’re just gonna hand over the keys and let me drive out of here with him?” Lionel’s standing a careful distance away from the trunk. He doesn’t try to meet John’s eyes, but occasionally he twitches a look over his shoulder. It’s like he thinks John might spring out at him like some kind of heavily armed Jack-in-the-box.</p><p>“That’s the idea, Detective.” Elias’s representative shrugs, like it’s no skin off his nose either way. “Though, respectfully, whatever plans you’ve got for him, here might not be the most convenient place.”</p><p>“You got a point,” says Lionel, and slams the trunk shut without so much as a flicker of apology in John’s direction.</p><p>Another thing about Lionel is that he’s got good reason to resent John. </p><p>Threatening his life doesn’t piss Lionel off enough to take immediate action—you’d need to go after his kid for that—but he’d sold John out to the cartel not that long ago, without a lot of arm-twisting. </p><p>John’s threatened to kill him a few more times since then. Threatened his career and his freedom too, come to think of it. </p><p>Plus, Finch had been kind of rude to him earlier today.</p><p>All in all, if Lionel decides to cut his losses tonight, it would be pretty naive of John if he were at all surprised.</p><p>*</p><p>Lionel drives for over an hour before the car finally rolls to a stop with a soft screech of badly worn brakes. The momentum causes John to rock gently on his side. His head continues to throb. </p><p>He wonders where Lionel’s taken them. Oyster Bay would be—nostalgic.</p><p>Something he didn’t know about Lionel when they met: you can rely on him to do good things for their own sake. During the Gates kidnapping, he’d gone above and beyond what John asked of him once he knew the safety of a child was at stake. Even when he was running with Stills’ crew, he didn’t go in for brutality, and tried to reign in other people’s worst instincts.</p><p>Lionel’s the opposite of John in a way. When he touches corruption, it gets a little less foul because of him.</p><p>Heavy footsteps crunch against a bed of gravel. There’s a hollow scraping noise, then a creak of rusting hinges.</p><p>A seam of light appears level with John’s face.</p><p>He kicks up with both legs as hard as he can. The trunk lid springs open. John rolls out and onto his feet, the muscles in his shoulders screaming. A modestly bloody zip tie dangles from one wrist.</p><p>Lionel stands a few feet back, hands already in the air, like he just knew. And—okay, that was fair.</p><p>“Sorry ‘bout that,” Lionel says, lowering his arms slowly. “Took me ages to shake those guys from tailing me. Your pal with the glasses called earlier and said you were out cruising for trouble. I guess you found some. That Elias don’t let any grass grow, huh?”</p><p>John stands there, swaying on his feet a little, blinking at Lionel in the soft evening light. After a second he winces, touching the side of his head like he’s searching for the lump.</p><p>“You okay?” Lionel walks over, tilting his head like he’s trying to see. “I figure those guys must have clocked you pretty good if whoa <em>hey</em>—”</p><p>John closes his fist in the front of Lionel’s shirt, spins him around, and pins him against the side of the car. It bounces gently on its shocks under the impact of both their bodies.</p><p>John gives Lionel a second to catch his breath—he figures he owes it to him—then presses his dry lips to Lionel’s soft, wet mouth. “Thanks for letting me out of there,” he says.</p><p>Lionel’s cheeks flush, and his brow furrows. “You know, if you were gonna do something dumb tonight, you could’ve just led with this.”</p><p>“Don’t talk about yourself like that, Lionel,” says John, and kisses him again. He’s not really the back pats type.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>